


No Longer Alone | George Weasley x Reader

by wafflenull



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, F/M, Muggleborn Slytherin Character, POV Female Character, Slytherin Reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:34:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28346211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wafflenull/pseuds/wafflenull
Summary: Fem!Slytherin Reader x George Weasley. No physical characteristics are mentioned.The other houses hate you because you're a Slytherin. The Slytherins hate you because you are muggleborn.After making friends with the Golden Trio and the Weasley Twins, you receive a letter from your uncle who seems desperate to find you.
Relationships: Angelina Johnson/Fred Weasley, Cho Chang/Cedric Diggory, Cho Chang/Harry Potter, George Weasley & Reader, George Weasley/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 45





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoy! :) 
> 
> any feedback in the comments is greatly appreciated!
> 
> (not proofread, sorry for any mistakes)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you go to your secluded table in the library, you're surprised to find a red headed boy sitting there. After discovering your lack of friends, he invites you to join him and some others at the first task of the Tri Wizarding Tournament

1

You carried your muggle history book and notebook in your arms. Your black dress shoes clacked against the stone flooring and you silently cursed your mother for buying shoes that had a small, hard heel. You didn’t need another thing to draw attention to you. I tried to lay your feet down slowly on the ground, but the sound persisted and the looks you got made you drop your head in shame.

You finally arrived at the library and avoided looking at any of the groups of friends taking up the large tables in the front of the library. You weaved through the bookshelves, all the way to the back of the library, to your usual hidden table. When you finally arrived, you froze. Someone was sitting there, red hair unkempt and robe slipping off one shoulder. You considered asking him to move, but then remember what everyone thought of you. You took a step to turn around, and the clacking betrayed you. 

The boy’s head whipped around. You weren’t surprised to see a Weasley. You knew his name since he was the one that always stuck around with Harry Potter—the chosen one—and Hermione Granger—the brightest witch of her of her age. It was Ron.

Your instinct was to run away but his quizzical look, as opposed to the oppositional look everyone seemed to have when looking at you, rooted your feet to the ground. 

“Hullo,” Ron said, standing up from the chair. 

“That’s my table,” you said, wringing your hands in front of you to relieve some of the anxiety.

“Oh,” he looked at the table and then back at you. “Well, I, um, do you want to share?”

Your jaw would have dropped if you were a cartoon, but instead you just stared at him. He glanced around trying to avoid your eyes. After an unreasonable amount of time passed, he spoke again. “It’s just that I’m trying to avoid Harry. I’m so sick of his chosen one complex.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. We can share. As long as we don’t talk,” you said. If he didn’t talk to you, he wouldn’t insult you. But for some reason, you slightly regretted saying that because he gave no indication of wanting to insult you.

You pulled the chair opposite his out and sat down, placing the muggle history book in front of you. He sat down to and returned to his work.

You read about the World War I, but you could feel Ron’s eyes on you periodically. You wondered why he kept glancing up at you, probably to insult you.

After about an hour, he spoke up. “Can I ask a question?”

You immediately went on the defense. Was this a trick to make her say something ridiculous? Hesitantly you responded, “Sure.”

“I told you why I’m hiding in the back of the library, but why are you here?” He seemed genuinely curious, but you couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped your mouth. So, it was a trick. There was no way he didn’t know that you were the outcast of the entire school.

You looked down at your book again and resumed reading. You heard him sigh. “I’m sorry, I was just curious.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure, as if you don’t already know,” you said, eyes still on your book.

He didn’t say anything, which made you glance up at him. His eyes didn’t seem malicious, in fact they looked confused and apologetic.

“I don’t,” he said, “but you don’t have to tell me.”

You nodded and looked at the bookshelves around you. “Um, well,” you started, and his eyes filled with curiosity. “I’m surprised you don’t know, but everyone sort of hates me. I’m Slytherin so all the other houses hate me, but I’m muggle-born so most of the Slytherins hate me. The ones that don’t, well they pretend to so they can fit in.”

His eyes weren’t filled with pity but with a shimmer of understanding. “Huh,” he said, “well, I don’t hate you.”

You couldn’t help the smile that pulled at the corners of your mouth. “Give it time,” you said, and your smile disappeared.

His fingers tapped against the wooden table. “Are you going to the first task this afternoon?”

You gave him an incredulous look. “Are you serious? Sit alone and purposely subject myself to more demeaning looks? No, thanks.”

He nodded. “What if you came with me and Hermione? Fred and George will be there too, and they’d be more than willing to prank anybody giving you trouble. They’re always looking for new victims.”

You pondered it for a moment. Everything you had heard about the Weasleys was positive. They were labeled blood-traitors but remained a positive and loving family. Your head acted without agreement from your mind and nodded. A triumphant grin spread across his face, making his eyes squint slightly.

“Alright, meet us at the Gryffindor common room, half an hour before the task starts. It’s by the portrait of the Fat Lady.”

“Are you sure the others will be okay with it. I don’t you to be roped into my outcast status.”

He waved his hand in front of him. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll be fine.”

\--

After finishing your assigned reading, you left the library with a short goodbye to Ron. You raced back to the Slytherin common room and up into your dorm. You sat down on your bed and finally let a giant grin spread across your face. Part of you worried you’d be standing at the Fat Lady’s portrait all afternoon because they either forgot about you or worse, were just pranking you into thinking they’d go with you. But you pushed down those fears and tried to hold onto the glimmer of hope shining in your chest.

Soon, you were standing in front of your small closet, trying to find something to wear. You settled on a red cable-knit sweater and dark blue jeans with black mid-calf boots. You slipped on your black peacoat and grabbed your white cotton gloves.

You considered bailing on the Weasleys and Hermione but realized this might be your one chance at making friends. You were in your fifth year and this was the first time you’d been invited to anything. You squared your shoulders and left the dorm.

In the common room, people were split into groups, talking about the task and wondering what it could be. When a few people finally noticed you, clearly on your way out, their eyes filled with surprise and then with the hatred you had become so used to. You weaved your way around the little groups and left.

As you walked through the castle towards the Gryffindor common room, your mind was racing. All your doubts and fear kept creeping in. Your life had been fine never being invited to anything. You didn’t mind being alone anymore. But being invited and then abandoned, that would hurt so much more. Your palms became slightly sweaty as you ascended the moving staircase.

You stood in the corner, leaning against the railing and hoped you weren’t too late. You wondered if you should knock but decided to just wait. You jumped out of the way when the portrait started swinging open.

You felt relief wash through you as you saw a red-haired boy step out. He started grinning and looked to the others. “She’s the girl I was telling about.”

They all looked at you with smiles as you exchanged names. Of course, you already knew Hermione, but were grateful when the twins introduced themselves. Without staring at them closely, you tried to notice any difference. Fred’s hair seemed to wave away from his face, while George’s fell flat. They were both covered in freckles. 

As you walked down the staircase, towards wherever the first task was, you couldn’t help looking at the back of George’s head. Your eyes fell down to the hands swinging and couldn’t help blushing. They looked smooth and strong. You looked to the ground and tried to tune back into the conversation Hermione and Ron were having.

Finally, you reached a big oval-shaped stadium. You stopped walking, afraid of the looks you knew you’d get. But Hermione smiled at you, grabbed your hand, and gently pulled you along with her. “You’ll be okay,” she said, and you couldn’t help but believe her.

After they found what they deemed the perfect seats, you sat down next to Hermione, and Ron next to her. The twins were sat behind you. You resolved not to look back a single time. You could already tell that George would present a problem to you.

Your group had been so focused on finding the right seats that you never bothered looking at the center of the arena. Your eyes were focused on your hands, avoiding eye contact with everyone, when you felt Hermione tap you on your shoulder.

You looked up at her, but she was staring straight forward. You followed her gaze and instantly felt your stomach drop. Dragons? What were they thinking? You instantly feared the worst but tried to relax yourself. You saw the chain on his leg connected to the ground. You felt slightly relieved, maybe the champions could hide in a corner the dragon couldn’t reach.

Just then, an announcement boomed, and Cedric stepped out. He didn’t look surprised, but there was a flicker of fear on his face. He stepped out further and the fear turned to resolve.

The dragon spotted him and started approaching him. Cedric held his wand up, pointed it away from the dragon, and cast a spell. You couldn’t hear the spell over the roar of the crowd, but almost immediately a stone on the other side of the arena turned into a dog. It let out a sharp bark and the dragon immediately whipped around. Cedric climbed through the rocks towards a golden egg you hadn’t even noticed. Before Cedric reached the egg, the dragon turned around and returned its attention to Cedric. A breath of fire escaped but Cedric got the egg and escaped the dragon still in one peace. A whistle sounded and everyone erupted into an ear-splitting cheer. You stood up with the others and clapped along.

It took some time for them to switch out the dragons, but eventually another announcement boomed, and Fleur exited the tent. Her wand was pointed straight at the dragon when she cast her spell. The dragon seemed the relax and its eyes became droopy. Fleur’s blonde hair whipped in the air as she made her way to retrieve the egg. The dragon had lain down and appeared to be sleeping. Suddenly, a loud sound escaped the dragon and fire shot out, making Fleur’s skirt catch fire. A quick water spell, and she retrieved the egg. A whistle sounded once again, and another loud bought of applause. 

You could hear George behind you cheering. You desperately wanted to turn around and look at what must be such pure excitement on his face. But you pushed that down. You had just met this boy. What was wrong with you?

Everyone sat back down, the dragon was switched, an announcement, and Krum stepped forward.

He quickly blinded the dragon with a spell and looked around the arena, looking for the egg. After he spotted it, he started approaching it, but the dragon was stumbling around void of his sight. The dragon’s foot stomped down on the eggs, narrowly avoiding the golden one but crushing a few off the regular ones. That surely would take some points off. He retrieved the egg and the whistle sounded again.

Next and last was Harry. Ron and Hermione were talking about him, Ron sounding sour, as the dragon was replaced. You decided to mind your own business. While you had barely spoken to them, you were still enjoying yourself far more than you would have alone in your dorm room. 

Another announcement was made, and Harry appeared out of the tent. His eyes went wide and he stumbled. The dragon started coming for him, and Harry hid behind a large stone. Fire shot out of the dragon’s mouth directly at the stone, but Harry remained unscathed. After a few more attempts from the dragon to hit Harry, Hermione couldn’t take it anymore. She cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, “Your wand, Harry!” 

Miraculously, he heard her over all the noise and cast a spell. Nothing happened. But he didn’t attempt to do it again, so the spell must have been successful. He continued to move around the arena avoiding the dragon, when from the direction of the castle a broom came flying. He hopped on and flew away. But just as you feared, the dragon ripped free of his chain and started flying towards Harry. In his pursuit, the dragon ripped part of the tented side of the arena down. You felt two hands grip your shoulders as two voices behind you rung out, “Well done, dragon!” You felt your cheeks heat up, and the hands let go.

Then Harry and the dragon were gone, which made the arena fall silent. After a few minutes, Harry returned, and the cheering was deafening. After Harry grabbed the egg, the whistle sounded, and the first task was over.

Everyone rushed to exit the arena, you guys included. You made it out and turned to look at the others. You only saw George. He grinned at you. “Guess it’s just you and me.” 

You felt butterflies in your stomach. You knew your voice would come out in a squeak if you spoke, so you just nodded.

“The others probably got stuck or whatever. Who knows how long it’ll take ‘em? I’ll walk you back,” he said, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. You instantly tensed up.

He started walking pulling you along. Once you started moving, his arm dropped, and you mourned the heat it provided. It was silent for a few seconds before George cleared his throat and spoke. “Can’t believe I’m hanging out with a Slytherin.” He lightly punched your shoulder and let out a chuckle. You gave him a small smile but didn’t know what to say. “Shy, are you? No problem, I’ll do the talking. I have very interesting things to say.”

Before you could stop yourself, you said, “I’m not so sure about that.”

“So, you do speak,” he said, smiling. Your eyes moved to his mouth and you noticed that his top lip curved slightly, and you quickly glanced away. 

“Sometimes. Guess I’m just used to being silent. Don’t really have anyone to talk to.” You instantly regretted saying that. No need to show him how pathetic and lonely you were.

“Well, I’ll change that. I can’t wait to hear what goes on in that secretive head of yours. Though I suppose your story-telling skills suck.”

It was your turn to punch him lightly, and you couldn’t believe you had just done that. He looked at you incredulously. “Alright, alright. Your probably sufficient at story-telling.”

You laughed and shook your head. “I guess that’s the best I’ll get from you.” He grinned victoriously. 

You were a couple turns away from the Slytherin common room, when you knew you had to break away from George. “Alright, I’ll go alone from here.”

“Oh, come on, I already know where the common room is. No need to hide it from me,” he pouted slightly. You felt flattered that he didn’t cut and run at his first chance.

“I don’t need the others thinking I showed you,” you said. You didn’t mention how you didn’t want him seeing the hateful looks everyone gave you.

He sighed. “Alright fine. But I’ll be seeing you again soon. I was serious when I said I wanted to know what goes on in that head.”

You blushed and he turned to walk away. You stood for a few seconds, watching him. Right before you went to walk away around, his heard turned around. When he saw you standing there, and a smirk spread across his lips. He turned around the hallway and was gone.

You didn’t notice the people looking at you in the common room and went straight up to your dorm room like you always did. Sitting down on your bed, you pulled your knees to your chest, and placed your head on them. You let out a silent squeal and replayed the moment where he turned and smirked in your head. And to think, you almost hadn’t gone to the library today.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While taking a break from studying in the library with Hermione, Ron, and Harry, you encounter a sprinting George who pulls you along. Soon you're standing centimeters away from him, hiding from Peeves.

You enter the library and see a few groups studying. One group consists of Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, and George. You make eye contact with George; he gives you a small smile and then looks away. You should have known that the whole thing was a fluke. He never actually wanted to know what you thought. It was momentary pity that made them spend time with you, a pity now long forgotten along with an idea of inviting you to anything else.

This time when you went to the table in the back, it seemed so much closer to the front than it ever had. You thought that maybe you could even see the group through the bookshelves if you looked at the right spot. You pulled out the chair you sat in last time and dropped down your belongings. You opened your Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook and sighed deeply. The readings for this class were always so dense and you couldn’t miss a single sentence, or you had no idea what was going on.

You had managed to get through one paragraph when you heard footsteps approaching. You quickly squashed any hope it might be one of the people you had gone to the first task with. Instead, a platinum blond came around the corner, an ugly sneer on his face.

“Well, if it isn’t the missorted mudblood. When are you finally going to switch houses? Nobody wants you here. Well, I suppose no house wants you,” he trailed off, turning to look at someone behind him. There was no doubt in your mind it was Crabbe or Goyle. But when he looked back at you, there was the tiniest hint of fear in his eyes. Then, without a word, Draco walked away.

You waited for somebody else to come, thinking it must have been a person that scared Malfoy. But nobody came, so you returned to your work. Footsteps kept nearing you, but they never made the last turn to see you at the table. Nobody ever went to the shelves surrounding your table, so you couldn’t help but hope every time.

Dinner time passed, and you continued to work on all your classes’ work. You had everything done for the next two days, but you didn’t feel like eating alone in the Great Hall because you knew you wouldn’t be able to help yourself from looking over at the Gryffindor table, hoping for somebody to glance in your direction. The only other option was going back to your dorm room, but you didn’t feel quite ready to walk through the common room yet.

After another hour, you knew it was time to leave and started packing up your things. After tightly screwing the lid on the ink pot, you slipped it into your pocket, along with the quill. Placing your books under your arm, you started to walk towards the front of the library. To no surprise, it was almost completely empty. But what did surprise you was a certain Gryffindor sitting at the table. He glanced up at the soft noise your preferred pair of shoes made and instantly smiled.

Ron stood up from his chair, almost knocking it over, and waved you over. “Why didn’t you sit with us?”

You looked at him dumbfounded. “Well, I didn’t know I could,” you admitted. “I guess I just thought you had all come to your senses.”

His eyes were soft and kind. “Y/N, if anything, we are the only ones who’ve come to our senses. Everyone who says they hate you just don’t know you.”

“You don’t know me either,” you said, shaking your head. “We hung out once and barely talked. This is ridiculous.” Your mind was going a mile a minute. “You know what, I’m not doing this. I know this is some elaborate prank. I don’t need this. Good-bye.”

You turned and all but ran out of the library as Ron called after you. Expecting nobody and having nobody was miles better than expecting somebody and having nobody. You slowed down to a walk, a wipe the stray tear that had escaped your eye.

Then you heard a familiar voice behind you. “Hey, wait up!” You knew it wasn’t for you, so you didn’t bother turning around.

After a few seconds they had fallen into step with you. “Didn’t you hear me?” You looked over at George and then back in front of you. “Did I do something?” He asked, clearly lost at your change in attitude.

You stopped walking, making him stop as well, and turned towards him. “If this is prank, then good job but I figured it out. If it’s not a prank, then I’m saving you the trouble.”

“What are you talking about? Did Ron say something? I know he waited for you in the library,” George said, furrowing his eyebrows.

“He didn’t say anything, well,” you paused, “he kind of did.” Something in George’s eyes changed but you couldn’t quite tell what. “He just said something about knowing me and the fact is that he doesn’t, none of you do. And I don’t need you disappointed after you find out.”

His eyes changed again, but this time you could tell. It was how your mother looked at you when you were younger and had scraped your knee. It was a look you rarely got from people at Hogwarts. It was compassion. He lifted his hands and they hovered over your shoulders. He hesitated and then decided to do it. His fingers wrapped around to the back of your shoulders, and his palms spread such warmth through your skin, even through the robe.

“I’m guessing this is hard for you, but I need you to believe what I’m about to say, okay?” He waited for your response, and you gave a tiny nod. “We may not know you yet, but we can tell that when we finally do, we will not be disappointed. There is a solution to this problem, you know. We can get to know you.” He removed his hands from your shoulders and stepped back.

You stood there, unmoving. You swallowed once and shook your head. “I don’t even know how somebody would get to know me. I’ve never made friends, even in the muggle word. Maybe there truly is something wrong with me.” Your gaze fell down onto the floor.

“There is nothing wrong with you. I may not know that for sure yet, but I’m rarely wrong. Fred’s the one that’s always wrong.” He chuckled as he added the last part.

Your eyes found his eyes and smiled weakly. “I must seem so pathetic.”

He shook his head. “You just seem lonely. And I’d like to change that, we all want to.” There was a moment of silence as you tried to believe him. “Why don’t you join us for breakfast tomorrow? Sit at the Gryffindor table, nobody will care.”

This time your smile was humorless. “They will. Have you not been listening?”

“You’ll be sitting with me and Fred, nobody will dare to say anything. Plus, ‘the chosen one’ will be there. You’ll be fine. Tomorrow, seven thirty?” He didn’t even give you time to respond. “Alright, see you then.” He was still facing you as he started walking away. With a wink that no doubt made your cheeks grow noticeably red, he turned around and walked away.

You made a quick stop at the Great Hall, grabbing a piece of bread, and went back to the Slytherin common room. You ignored the looks and entered your dorm room. Removing the ink pot and quill from your robe, you grabbed a fresh piece of parchment. Placing everything on your nightstand you began to write:

_Dear Mum,_

_I’m a little lost. These people are offering to be my friends, but I’m not sure I trust them. I’m supposed to meet them for breakfast tomorrow, but I’m not sure I will. What if they’re just stringing me along, waiting to dump me? That’ll hurt so much more than never having had a friend in the first place. What would you do?_

_Love, Y/N_

Realizing you’d have to walk back through the common room to get to the owlery where your brown owl Penny was resting, you ripped up the parchment.

\--

The next morning, you could tell you had woken earlier than usual, but as your clock had broken last week, you had no idea what time it was. You still hadn’t made up your mind whether you would sit with them, but you knew you wouldn’t until you were standing in the Great Hall. You put on your uniform, slipped your wand in your pocket, grabbed your books, and left the dorm. Luckily, no one was in the common room. As you walked through the castle to the Great Hall, you didn’t see a single person. You finally made it to the Great Hall and there were only about a dozen people scattered between the four long tables.

You were obviously way too early. Perhaps this was a sign not to sit with the Gryffindors. You sat down at the very end of the Slytherin table, close to the door, where you always sat. You picked at your breakfast as you read through one of the muggle books you had brought with you. More people started arriving, and the noise picked up. You kept your eyes focused on the book to keep yourself from looking for the people who supposedly wanted to be your friends. You weren’t even reading, but staring at a single word: and. You tried to find some deeper meaning in the random chance of staring at that word but came up empty. It was a word that joined things together, but you had never been joined with anyone other than your mum.

You felt a tap on your shoulder. You braced yourself for an insult for Malfoy and turned around. The first thing you noticed were the black, round glasses. Your eyes involuntarily flicked to his hairline, looking for the scar, but it was hidden beneath his black hair. “I thought it was time I met you,” he said, smiling. He stuck out his hand and you shook it.

Everyone had always described Harry as a self-centered boy with a hero complex, but you didn’t see that in him. Sure, there was an air of confidence about him, but you could tell that deeper down lay many insecurities and scars. “Nice to meet you.”

He sat down next to you his back leaning against the table. “Why don’t you join us? George said he invited you.”

“I don’t want to be a bother. I’m fine right here.” You returned your eyes to your book, but Harry made no move to leave.

“I didn’t really mean it as a question.” He paused. “Look, I offered to come here before Fred and Ron. Trust me when I say you want to come with me and not wait for them to most certainly embarrass you.”

You smiled at him. “Fine, but only for a few minutes.”

You both got up, you grabbing your things as he waited for you. You made light conversation on the brief walk, sharing what your favorite class was.

Everyone smiled up at you when you reached them. “Sit next to me,” Hermione said. You complied and took a seat. Hermione leaned in close and quietly spoke to you. “I’m glad to have another girl here. Ginny used to be here, but she’s been distant lately. We’ve all tried to include her, but she’s insisted she just needs some space.”

“Come on, Hermione, let’s not show her how easy it is to get rid of us,” Ron said, from across the table.

Fred and George laughed simultaneously. “As if,” Fred said. “We’re like glue,” George added. “Stuck forever,” Fred finished.

“Guess I’ll just need some acetone,” you said, smiling. Hermione shoved you with her shoulder as she chuckled. Fred and George frowned silently.

“Glad to see somebody can make them shut up,” Harry said, grinning at you.

“I do my best,” you said, starting to relax into the conversation.

“So, what’s your schedule like?” Hermione asked.

You recounted your classes to her, even though school had been going for about two months and you already knew you didn’t share any classes.

“I practically drag Ron and Harry to the library for them to do their work. Ron says you spend a lot of time in the library. I could really use another hand in trying to get these two to focus. You know it takes them five hours to write two pieces of parchment?”

“Everyone goes at different speeds,” you offered.

Hermione shook her head. “They’d be much faster if they stopped talking about nonsense. We’re going today after classes; you should come with. I’m not kidding, it’s like being an incredibly strict chaperon.”

“How is that different from every minute of every day,” Ron said, the top of his ears slightly red.

Hermione gave him a stern look before returning to you. You glanced over at George and seemed to catch him just as he looked away.

When it was time to leave and go to class, Hermione looped her arm through yours. “I’ll walk you,” she said. “My class starts a bit later.”

Everyone gave quick goodbyes and went in different directions. Out of the castle, on your way to the greenhouse, Hermione revealed the reason she wanted to walk you.

“You have to tell me what’s going on with George!” For a whisper, it was incredibly loud.

You felt a blush creep onto your cheeks but were confused at her question. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She swung her hands. “Oh, come on!” She shook her head and laughed. “He couldn’t take his eyes off you the entire time.”

Your heart fluttered but you knew she was probably wrong. There must have been something behind you that was particularly interesting. “I don’t think he was.” But you did remember occasionally looking over at him to find him looking at you.

“I think he was. And when I claim I’m never wrong, it’s true, unlike when Fred and George do,” she said, laughing. You couldn’t help but chuckle along with her as you remember George making a similar claim.

You reached the greenhouse, and Hermione looked at you with a meaningful look. “I hope you come to the library later. I can tell we’ll be great friends.” Then she turned around, her brown, bushy hair, whipping through the air, and started walking back up towards the castle.

\--

All of your classes passed quickly. You were on your way back to the dorm room, as was your routine, before remembering Hermione’s words. You stopped in the middle of the empty hallway and stood for a couple of seconds. With a big huff and a leap of faith, you turned and changed your path to the library.

When you got there, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were already there, books open. You went up to them and stood there awkwardly. Hermione looked up at you and smiled. “Sit!” She said, pulling you down. You placed your things on the table in front of you.

Perhaps it was entirely normal, but the seemingly constant small touches from everyone confused you. You always froze for a second before relaxing. It would take some time to get used to, but you couldn’t deny the fact that it was actually quite comforting.

Hermione hadn’t been wrong when she said that Ron and Harry had a hard time focusing. At one point, they were discussing different kinds of frogs and toads, when they should have been reading their charms book. You looked at Hermione and nodded your head towards the oblivious boys. You both laughed before returning to your own homework.

After about an hour, you couldn’t focus anymore and decided to take a break. The three of them nodded, saying they’d still be here when you came back.

You exited the library and started walking towards the girls’ bathroom. You went in and washed your hands. You looked at yourself in the mirror and your face looked different. You knew it was probably all in your mind, but you thought that you could see tiny traces of happiness on your face. You still had doubts about the sincerity of the friendship but decided to enjoy it while it lasted.

You were roaming around the castle when George came running towards you. He grabbed you and pulled you along. You were sprinting side by side, his hand tightly wrapped around your wrist. Then he ducked around a corner and pulled you behind a pillar. He was staring at you, his chest heaving. Your back was pushed against the pillar, both his arms holding your upper arms. He glanced around you down the hallway.

“What in the world— “but his hand clamped around your mouth.

“Shh,” he whispered. “Peeves might hear us.” He glanced around the pillar again, apparently looking for any sign of Peeves. “I think we’re safe,” he said, dropping his hands from your mouth and arm. “Sorry about that.”

You shook your head. “Why did you drag me along? I was perfectly fine.”

He smirked at you. “I needed a partner in crime and Fred had abandoned me a few turns earlier.”

“Okay, well, I need to get back to the library,” you said, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach.

“But I just got you. I haven’t found out any of those secrets of yours,” he said, almost pouting.

“Hermione, Ron, and Harry are waiting for me,” you explained.

He glanced around the pillar again, and quickly pushed you and him closer together behind the pillar.

A few moments passed before you whispered, “Was that Peeves? Is he gone?”

George chuckled. “Oh, no, there was nobody there.” You pushed him off of you, laughing. “I really need to get to the library. Maybe next time you can actually include me in the prank and not just the escape.”

With that you came out from behind the pillar and started walking towards the library. You passed Peeves and could tell he was still looking for the twins. What in the world had they done to him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! Let me know in the comments :)


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In an attempt to spend more time with you, George takes you to the quidditch pitch for some flying. Your lack of skills results in you sitting on the sink in the second floor girls' bathroom as he patches up your injuries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Blood. Nothing extensive just a quick mention.

After the whole George and pillar incident, you decided to avoid him. The butterflies in your stomach would never go away if he couldn’t to pull stunts like when he pretended to see Peeves. You had gone to the library and talked to Hermione about random things. It was nice to be able to talk to someone that wasn’t either your mum or old enough to be your mum. At one point, Ron pointed out how Hermione herself was taking at least an hour to finish one piece of parchment. That made her quiet down and return to her essay. 

Finished with your homework, you said your goodbyes and decided to get some dinner alone. You had never minded eating alone, but you minded even less so now because it was your choice to be alone. You had people you could have gone with for the first time since coming to Hogwarts. But you were still overwhelmed and couldn’t avoid the nagging thoughts of potential insincerity on their part.

When you entered the Great Hall, your eyes immediately went to the Gryffindor table, in search of a certain red head. George and Fred were sitting all the way in the back, as far as possible from the door. That eased your mind. You took your regular place at the end of the Slytherin table. 

You tried not to look over at Fred and George but failed. After you were finished, you started cleaning up your place to make it easier for the house elves. Just then you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“You’re coming with me,” George said.

You looked around for his twin who had just been with him but now seemed to have vanished.

“Where’s Fred?” You asked.

“He went back to the Gryffindor common room. Just you and me,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

Was he this much of a flirt with everyone? It made sense that relentless pranking came with a fair amount of confidence. You remembered your plan to avoid him and said, “I’m not sure…I-“

“I’m afraid you’ve no choice,” George interrupted you. “Now, come with before I drag you out of here.”

You looked into his brown eyes, searching for any signs that this might be a prank, that this was the culmination of their fake friendship with you. Seeing only impatience, you nodded.

“Alright,” you sighed. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” he said, before he marched out of the Great Hall. Due to his long legs and your delayed reaction to his departure, you had to do one of the awkward jog-walks to catch up to him.

“That doesn’t seem very fair. Not only that, but it sounds like you’re bringing me to some secret location to kill me,” you commented. You still couldn’t believe how easy it was to talk to people after years of being alone in your dorm room and the library. Your days were always the same. The only thing that changed were the classes you had that day and the food they served in the Great Hall.

“Guess you’ll just have to trust me,” he said, with a wicked glint in his eyes.

“When have you given me any reason to trust you?” You asked. He had led you out of the castle by now and a shot of fear rushed through your body when you realized where you were going: the quidditch pitch. “Umm, George, I’m not so sure that this is a good idea. I haven’t been on a broom since first year. And even then, I was horrible.”

George chuckled and wrapped his arm around your shoulder. You suppressed the feeling in your chest and reminded yourself that that whole group seemed to very touchy and that this meant nothing. “Don’t you worry. I’m both an amazing flyer and an amazing teacher. I’ll teach you.”

“I would say that Madam Hooch meets the same criteria, but she couldn’t teach me either,” you argued. You walked into the middle of the empty pitch, as he made his way over to a door underneath the stands. 

“Trust me, I’m better than Hooch,” he shouted to you. He pulled out two brooms and started walking over towards you. He handed you one of the brooms. “Brand new old comet just for you,” he said and flashed you a grin. You awkwardly held it in the air as far away from your body as possible. “Don’t tell me you’re scared.”

“Fine, I won’t tell you,” you said, shooting him a glare. “Do we really have to do this?”

“It’s either this, or you tell me all your secrets,” he offered.

“I don’t know why you seem to think I have secrets. I really don’t,” you said.

“I guess it’s flying then.”

He hopped onto his broom and lifted off the ground. As he sped off and flew a lap around the pitch, you stood there in shock. There was absolutely no way you would be able to do that. He touched down next to you and smiled. “See,” he said, “it’s easy.” You scoffed, the broom still as far away from you as possible.

He dropped his broom and stepped closer to you. He wrapped one of his hands around yours and pushed the broom closer to you. “This isn’t the Monster Book of Monsters. It won’t bite you.” His fingers were icy cold, probably from the wind while he was flying. When he let go, you couldn’t help but miss the cold. “Now, step over it,” he said.

You stood motionless. “I really don’t—” You stopped as he bent down and lifted one of your legs off the ground. “What the bloody hell are you doing!” You almost shouted. Then he pushed your broom down under your leg. “You really want me to do this,” you mumbled to yourself. “Bloody hell.”

He stood back up and grinned. “Looked like you need a bit of help.” His grin faded as you stared at him. He smiled at you so much, and it always took you a bit surprise. You were used to looks of disinterest and disgust, not kindness. “You alright?” He asked. “I didn’t mean to upset you. You don’t have to. I just thought it’d be fun.”

You shook your head. “No, it’s fine. Let’s do it.” He gave you a brief overview on how to maneuver the broom and how to land. When he was finished, he clasped his hands.

“I got this,” you mumbled to yourself, trying to believe your own lie. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Then, your feet started to lift off the ground and you tightened your drip on the broom. Squinting through one eye, you peeked at the ground below you. You opened your eyes completely when you saw that there were only a few centimeters between you and the grass. You imagined being all the way at the top of the stands, meters off the ground, completely at the mercy of this old broom. Then against, your will, that was exactly what happened.

Your broom took you up into air, the wind roughly brushing against your face. You leaned forward out of instinct but that only made the broom move forward. Your breath caught in your throat as everything that George had told you slipped from your mind.

“Push the front of the broom down!” You heard George shout. Why in Merlin’s name would you aim for the ground. But without any other options, you did what he said. Closing your eyes, you pushed the broom downwards. Your stomach was in knots. “PULL UP!” George shouted. You opened your eyes to see the ground too close and pulled the broom back up, but you were too slow and crashed into the ground. Luckily the broom was still intact, but you weren’t sure you could say that about yourself.

George ran over to you and crouched down. Gently placing his hand on your hand, he inspected for any nasty injuries. “You really do suck,” he said. “All I see is a small scratch on your face. How are your arms and legs? Hurt at all?” Still in shock, you shook your head. He grabbed your hands and gently pulled you up. “Let’s go dress that cut.” He grabbed your broom and his in one hand while the other was wrapped around your waist with your arm over his shoulders. He quickly stashed them in the closet, and then you were off towards the castle.

He kept asking if you were okay the entire way back to the castle, which was sweet at first but become slightly annoying. “George, I’m fine. It’s your turn to trust me now.” You saw him nod out of the corner of your eye. “Where are we going? I don’t want to go to Madam Pomfrey. She patched me up all first year and then made me promise never to go on a broom again.”

George chuckled to himself before clearing his throat with a short cough, no doubt trying to hide the laughter. “I can’t take you to the Gryffindor common room, and I can’t go the Slytherin on. Madam Pomfrey’s really the only option.”

You frowned. “Actually, that’s not true. I’m sure Hermione has some first aid stuff. I’ll wait in the girl’s bathroom on the second floor. Nobody goes in there.”

“I’m not sure I want to leave you alone.”

“George, I’m not dying. You said there was just a small cut.” You saw his face change for a brief second before he agreed. He dropped you off at the bathroom, once again asked if you were okay, and then sprinted off towards the Gryffindor common room.

You turned towards the mirrors over the sinks in the middle of the room. You brushed the dirt off one with your sleeve to take a look at the cut. You drew in a sharp breath. There was a long cut from your temple to the bottom of your cheek, blood smeared and dried along it. Your heart rate picked up as you freaked out. Wringing your hands, you turned away from the mirror.

“You’re fine. It’s just a cut,” you said to yourself.

“Are you sure about that? Wouldn’t want you to end up like me,” you heard a girl’s voice call from one of the stalls. Myrtle. You hoped she wouldn’t be in here, but she never went anywhere else.

Oddly enough, her comment made you calm down. She always overreacted to everything. “I’ll be fine, Myrtle,” you said. You really wanted to tell her to shut up, but you couldn’t deal with any wailing right now. A headache started to grow in your temples after you had hit the ground.

Just then, the door swung open, and George walked in, a little red and white kit in his hands. He rushed over to you. “Sorry it took so long. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Though I took a look at the cut. You call that small?”

He smiled sheepishly. “I didn’t want you to freak out.” You nodded. There was a brief moment of silence as he looked into your eyes. “Alright,” he said, “hop onto the sink.”

You glanced at the sink. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s easier if you sit while I do this. By now you should know that I’ll put you there myself if you don’t do it.”

Part of you wanted him to do it, but you decided that would be too obvious and hopped onto the sink yourself. He walked up to you and placed the kit next to you. He pulled out a piece of gauze and a white bottle. He poured a thin liquid from the bottle onto the gauze and looked at you. “This is gonna sting a little,” he warned you. His hips pushed against your knees as he reached forward for the cut. He lightly pushed the gauze against your cut, and you clenched your teeth. His hips touching your knees seemed to ground you as he rubbed the gauze along the cut. 

He pulled away, your knees now cold, and threw the bloody gauze away. He pulled out a few Band-Aids, looking for the see-through ones. Once he found them, he unwrapped one and turned back to you. His hips found your knees again as he placed the Band-Aid on your cheek. His fingers lingered as his eyes found yours. Heat crept up your neck and onto your cheek, which was probably the reason for the light smile on his face. He glanced down your lips, and nerves shot through your entire body. His hips felt like fire burning your knees. He dropped his hand from the Band-Aid and lifted the other one to your uninjured cheek. He ran his thumb right under your bottom lip as he looked down at them. His eyes found yours again. He started to lean towards you, and you were unsure whether to let him or to move away.

But the decision was ripped from you when a girl came bursting through the door, crying loudly. George jumped back and rubbed the back of his neck. You got off the sink. “Thanks,” you said, before hurrying out of the bathroom.

You started walking back to the Slytherin common room, unsure of where else to go. Was George really going to kiss you? No way. There was probably just some blood under your lip. Your finger involuntarily touched the place his thumb had been. Your mind started filling with anxious thoughts. Maybe the group had made a bet of who could get you to kiss them first and then ditch you. You knew you should have stayed away from him. You ran into Fred as you passed the Great Hall.

“Y/N, you okay? I thought George was taking you flying?” He asked. Then he noticed the bandage on your face. “What happened?”

“I, um, crashed into the ground. I told him I wasn’t good at flying, but he didn’t believe me!”

“Where’d he go?” Fred asked, looking around. “Thought he’d stay with you after that.”

“He patched me up, and then I left,” you explained sheepishly, as you felt the blush creeping onto your face again.

He noticed the blush and suppressed a grin. “Well, why don’t you join me for some dinner? Ron, Harry, and Hermione are off doing something, and you left George Merlin knows where.”

You tried to think of an excuse not to, still wondering whether they were fooling you. You just couldn’t understand why these people would randomly try to befriend you. The rational part of you knew that these were kind people and that you should trust them, but your years of outcast status clouded your judgement.

“Come on,” Fred said as you contemplated your decision. His face was open and friendly as he requested your company, so you stomped down the doubts and nodded. He smiled. You noticed that unlike George, his top lip remained straight when he smiled. You decided for yourself that you liked the curved lip more. Then you cursed yourself for thinking of George’s lips and followed Fred into the Great Hall.

To your surprise, he didn’t walk towards the Gryffindor table, but approached the Slytherin one. “Um, shouldn’t we go over there?” You asked.

Fred shook his head. “I want to see Malfoy’s face when a ‘blood-traitor’ sits at his precious Slytherin table.”

You sat down across from him and piled some of the food in front of you on your plate. Fred did the same.

“So, tell me,” Fred said, “any boys? Or girls, I suppose.”

You shook your head almost too quickly. “Uhh, boys. But no, nobody.” Fred seemed disappointed in that. You shifted the attention off of you as best you could. “I heard that you had a thing for Angelina,” you said.

He smiled to himself. “The only person I’ve told is George, so he’ll get a beating later tonight.”

“It wasn’t George!” You defended. “I overheard Oliver one day. He said you were always watching Angelina during quidditch practice.”

Fred tried to hide his surprise. “Didn’t know it was that obvious. I can’t believe I just admitted that to you.”

You chuckled. “Years of overhearing have made me a great listener.”

He laughed with you. “So, you’re sure there’s nobody?” He asked. You were slightly suspicious but couldn’t figure out why he would ask that if he was into Angeline.

You lied for the second time that night. “Nope, nobody.”

Conversation was light and enjoyable, but Fred perked up when a certain blond walked into the Great Hall. His eyes immediately fell onto the red headed boy sitting at the Slytherin table.

Draco, followed by Crabbe and Goyle, marched up to him. “Weasley,” he hissed. “You don’t belong at this table.”

You saw Fred smile as he stood up, towering over Draco. “Actually, I’m here with a friend. What are you going to do about it?”

Draco then looked at you and busted out laughing. “Of course, the blood-traitor is hanging out with the mud blood. Both of you are disappointment to the wizarding name, so you make great company to each other.” Crabbe and Goyle laughed along with him.

You expected to see a furious look on Fred’s face, but it was the opposite. There was an intense calm in his eyes. “In your opinion, we may be a disappointment to the wizarding world, but at least we aren’t an embarrassment to our parents.” He paused and let Draco react before he continued. “I suppose your father will hear about this,” he said with a grin.

Draco’s face went red and he stomped away. Fred turned to you. “See, told you it’d be fun.” You smiled in response. “You done?” A quick nod from you and you left the Great Hall together.

The more time you spent with them, the more you trusted them. You couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or not. Fred had just stood by you against Malfoy, and you couldn’t find any hidden, ulterior motive behind that. George had bandaged your face. Hermione walked you to class. Harry invited you to join them at breakfast. And Ron introduced you to all of them in the first place. You didn’t want to let your anxieties ruin these possible friendships. More importantly, you didn’t want whatever had happened with George to ruin these possible friendships. This time you took your vow to stay away from George more seriously.


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You send an owl to your mother after some unfortunate news, only to get a letter back from somebody else.

Despite the cooling temperatures, you decided to go for a walk on the grounds. After a few minutes, you realized you forgot your gloves, so you shoved your hands deep into the pockets of your jacket. Luckily, you had remembered your hat, so your ears were nice and toasty. Unluckily, however, it was bright red and attracted any wayward eye. You almost made a joke to yourself about Mad-Eye Moody but decided it was low-hanging fruit and not worth it.

Your dinner with Fred had been surprisingly enjoying, even with the visit and insults from Draco. You wondered why he had pressed you about any boys and you couldn’t help but hope he was asking for his twin. But, remembering your vow, you quickly reminded yourself that you had no idea how George acted with other girls, so you had no idea what his behavior with you meant. It would make sense for him to be a perpetual flirt, but only time would tell you.

Your boots failed to keep the cold off your toes, so you decided to return to the castle. But that was when Professor McGonagall found you. Her robe billowed behind her in the wind as she rushed down the hill towards you.

“Dear, I have some unfortunate news,” she said, once she reached you. Fear crawled up your spine, but you had no idea what to even think to fear. “I think it best you come with me,” she said, already walking back up the hill.

You followed, utterly confused. You couldn’t have done anything wrong; her tone was too…pitying. Something horrible must have happened. But the only thing that could possibly illicit such a response was if something had happened to somebody in your life, and as far as McGonagall knew, the only person was your mother.

A stone dropped in your stomach and your mouth went dry. You felt your airway constricting as the world began to spin. Stumbling, your hands and knees hit the ground. You heard McGonagall’s voice but couldn’t figure out what she had said. You were frightfully cold, though even if the weather was sweltering, your skin would have been icy to the touch. You heaved deep breaths, trying to get any air, but your lungs seemed to shrivel up inside you.

Your mother. If something happened to her. Even worse, what if she was…you couldn’t even think the word. Merlin, what would you do? Where would you go? You had that one horrible uncle in Hertfordshire, but you hadn’t seen him in years. How would you cope without the only person who had meant something to you, who you had meant something to?

A hand touched your shoulders, which sent spikes hurtling through your body. Then everything went black.

\--

Your head was laying on something lumpy and hard. Your body was entirely too hot, while your forehead was covered by something damp and freezing. You reached up and ripped the rag from your head and threw the covers off your body.

Madam Pomfrey rushed over to you. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Don’t tell me you had a panic attack from flying on a broom,” she joked.

“Um,” you gently shook your head, not wanting to aggravate the ache. “I was outside the castle with McGonagall, who—” You shot up out of the bed.

Madam Pomfrey pushed you back down. “No, no, you have to rest. I’ll alert McGonagall you’ve come to. She’ll be by soon.”

There was no use in fighting her. Returning your head to the incredibly uncomfortable pillow, you tried to keep the negative thoughts out of your head. Your mother was fine. She had to be. There was no way she wasn’t. She was a muggle, a baker. She had no enemies. It wouldn’t even make sense.

After too long, Professor McGonagall showed up. She approached your bed and surveyed your state. “Feeling better, Miss Y/L/N?”

“I will after I hear this ‘unfortunate news,’” you said, all politeness apparently having been left by the hill outside the castle.

She pursed her lips and nodded. “Yes, we have received word from your mother—” You sighed out of the immense relief you felt. The aching in your head seemed to magically disappear. You couldn’t determine whether it was the news or if Madam Pomfrey had cast a spell from the other end of the hall. “Your uncle, he has passed.”

Professor McGonagall must have thought you were an absolute lunatic because of the wide grin that spread across your face. “Poppy!” She called.

“No, no,” you said, holding up your hands. “I’m alright. It’s just that, well, I thought my mother had died, and quite truthfully, I didn’t like my uncle.”

She nodded and waved off Madam Pomfrey. “While I understand your relief, I would suggest writing your mother and offering your condolences. He was her brother after all.”

You nodded. “Of course, I’ll write her.”

McGonagall gave you a curt nod before leaving the infirmary.

After being forced to drink a large glass of water, Madam Pomfrey let you leave. You stopped at the library, grabbed a piece of parchment, an inkpot, and a quill from the lost and found. You started planning your letter as you made your way to the west tower.

Guilt slowly started to creep in. A human life had been lost and you had smiled. But, you weren’t smiling at the loss of a life, but at the continuance of your mother’s. You tried to reason with yourself, reminded yourself you wished your uncle no harm, but the guilt had lodged itself firmly in your chest. 

In the owlery, you dipped the quill in the ink pot you placed on the ground, held the parchment against the stone wall, and began to write.

Dear Mum,  
I know it’s been a while since I’ve written. That’s not entirely true. I’ve written, but I’ve not sent them. You probably can guess the reason why… Anyway. Professor McGonagall told me the news about Uncle Oliver. I hope you’re doing alright with the news. Write me if you need anything. I can come back home and help with anything you need. I’m sure Dumbledore would understand.  
I love and miss you!  
Y/N

You capped the ink pot and slipped it, along with the quill, into your jacket pocket. You rolled up the letter and looked at all the owls, searching for yours. You gave a quick whistle, held your arm in the air, and then a brown owl flew over and landed on you.

“Hi, Penny. I know it’s been a while. Hope you’ve been having fun with your owl friends.” You pet her forehead and fastened the letter to her leg. “I promise to come visit more, but you know how it is with the others. Please hurry this letter to mum.” You kissed your pointer finger and then touched it to her beak. Penny closed her eyes at your touch and then took off.

You turned to leave, when you heard footsteps coming up the side of the tower. This was exactly why you never came here. With your luck it was Draco or one of his goons. You looked for a place to hide, but frozen in terror, Harry entered before you hid.

“Oh,” he said. “Didn’t expect anyone here. Pretty late.”

“Just had to, um, mail a letter to my mum,” you explained.

He nodded. “I brought Hedwig a treat. Give me a second and I’ll walk back with you.”

You hated yourself for being surprised at this. This was entirely normal behavior from a friend, but were you friends yet? You nodded and stood to the side, giving Harry some privacy with his snowy white owl. Hedwig cooed loudly as Harry fed her the treat. He did the same as you did. He kissed his finger and touched it to her beak. A smile spread across your face.

“I do that, too,” you said.

He looked over and smiled sheepishly. He returned his attention to his owl. He mumbled a goodbye before Hedwig fluttered off his arm. Harry turned to you. “Ready?”

You were walking down the stairs, when Harry said, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” you said, trying not to betray your nervousness.

“So, there’s this girl, and I, well,” Harry stuttered.

“Was that a question?” You asked, shoving him with your shoulder.

He chuckled. “Well, how would I know if she liked me back? I barely talk to her, but she’s just so beautiful.” His voice had taken on a dreamy tone.

“I’m really the wrong person to ask. I’ve never had friend, much less any romantic prospects.

Harry’s head whipped to you. “That’s a lie.”

Had he found out about your small crush on George, though maybe that’s not what it was. Maybe it was just more intense platonic feelings. Maybe you were just meant to be closer friends with him than others. How were you supposed to tell the difference?

“You’ve got friends now. We’re all your friends,” he said. You knew the kindness in his eyes could only come from a past of pain.

“Thanks,” you said, looking down at the ground. “But I really can’t help you about the girl thing.”

He sighed softly. “That’s alright. I’ve got this tournament to deal with anyway.”

You took the opening without hesitation. “How did you get your name in the goblet?”

He stopped short, grabbing you to hold you in place. He instantly let go. There was frustration in the eyes that had been so kind before. “I didn’t,” he said. “Why does nobody believe me? Even Ron didn’t believe me for a while there.”

“I believe you,” you said. “All I’d heard is that you’d put it in. Nobody told me you said you didn’t.”

He smiled at you, but it didn’t reach his eyes. You started walking again. “Have you figured out what the egg is about yet?” You asked.

“No,” he huffed. “But, it’s fine. I’ve got time. I’ll figure it out before the next task.”

You nodded. “Let me know if you need any help.”

You reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, when Harry slapped his forehead. “I forgot you weren’t Gryffindor. Let me walk you to your common room,” he said.

You laughed. “No, that’s alright. The whole secret common room thing, remember?”

“Yeah, what’s that about?” He asked.

“I don’t know. Just another attempt to express their supremacy,” you said, rolling your eyes.

As much as you hated Slytherin now, you hadn’t at first. In fact, you were excited when the sorting hat shouted out the name. The table to the far right of the Great Hall cheered as you walked towards them. But one question ruined it all. “What family are you from?” But of course, as much as you hated Slytherin, you didn’t like other people insulting the house. Slytherin was like a brother you hate. You try to distance yourself from it as much as possible, but when someone says something horrible, your instinct is to defend it.

“Hmm,” Harry said. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” He gave you a small wave and you turned to leave.

It wasn’t quite right to say that you expected Harry to be egotistical. You had long learned that the rumors Slytherins spread often contain very little truth. The same could be said for other houses, but you had less data on that. There had been doubt in your mind when people whispered about how he could have gotten his name in the goblet of fire. Why would a boy with such a burden seek out such things? It just didn’t make sense.

Reaching the Slytherin common room, you muttered the password.

You rushed through the common room with your head down. You knew Draco must have shared what Fred had said to him with the other Slytherins, and you didn’t feel like facing them. Up in your dorm room, you took off your jacket and shoes. You flopped down on your bed. You had been lucky to get a single room. There were only a few per year, and you feared rejection when you requested one. But your status as an outcast wasn’t unknown the professors, so they granted you one of the singles. 

You read a bit of one of your muggle books, but when it became late you put it aside, turned off the light, and tried to sleep. An image started to appear before your eyes. Little brown dots, and a curved pink line. Freckles and a smile. Brown eyes filled in the image as the red hair appeared. You snapped your eyes open. You promised you would stay away from George.

\--

The next morning passed uneventfully. You skipped breakfast and skated through your classes. All day, you itched to go to the infirmary to retrieve the letter. Penny brought the letters back to the owlery ever since your third year. A few Slytherins had recognized your owl, when she was returning from your mum’s house with a letter in hand. One of the Slytherins used a treat to lure her down and stole the letter. Stealing the letter wasn’t the worst part, however. They took her into their dorm room and kept her there for a few days. When she didn’t return from your mum’s house, you grew worried and expressed your concerns to Professor Snape. He was reluctant to help, but as Head of Slytherin, he had no choice. After a few hours, he returned Penny to you, told you the story, but refused to give any names, not that you would have been able to do anything. After that, you told Penny to stick to the owlery when at Hogwarts.

When classes finally ended, you rushed to the owlery. You sprinted up the stairs. Finally, at the top and out of breath, you looked for Penny. She came flying up to you, a letter attached to her leg. You slipped it out of the knot and read it.

Dear Y/N,  
I’m sorry to have lied, but it was the only way I knew to get you to respond. Your support for your mother has never known any bounds. Even the death of your hated uncle would earn a supporting response from you. Unfortunately for you, I’m fine. Your mother, however, well, that’s to be seen.  
I called the boarding school in Ireland and there was no record of you. So, I did what I had to do. Why did I believe your mother all these years? I knew there were something fishy going on. I will find out. And this surprise visit from an owl with a letter written in ink on parchment? Just another clue.  
Talk to you soon,  
Uncle Oliver.

You started at the letter in your hands, unable to process the information. Why was your uncle at your house? Where was your mother? Did he capture her? And what was it to him where you were? You rushed out of the owlery and sprinted to the library, in search of Hermione. You caught a lucky break when she was alone at a table, studying.

You rushed up to her and tapped her on the shoulder. “Hermione?”

She finished the sentence and then turned to look at you. “Yeah?” Then she saw the look on your face. “What’s the matter?”

Lost for words, you shoved the letter in her hand. If anybody could help you figure out what happened, it was Hermione. Her eyes raced over the words, before she handed the piece of paper back to you.

Her brow was furrowed, and you could tell she was piecing together different pieces of information. “What should I do?” You asked her.

“You have to bring this to Professor Dumbledore. Your uncle is clearly trying to figure out where you are, and if he does, then wizards and witches everywhere will be at risk,” she said, matter-of-factly.

You shook your head. “No,” you said, “I can’t do that. As much as I hate the man, I don’t need anything happening to him. I just need to know why he wants to know where I am. And where my mum is.”

Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but you walked away. Her sense of reason was clearly not helpful to you at that moment. With nowhere else to go, you waited outside the Gryffindor common room, waiting for someone to go in.

Soon a first-year boy walked up the Fat Lady. He looked at you and saw your green and silver tie. “Can you check if somebody is in there for me?”

He looked around unsure but nodded. “Who?”

“George Weasley.”

An unbearable amount of time passed before the portrait opened again. George stepped out and you sighed in relief. “I need your help,” you said.

He looked a little lost. You hadn’t seen him since the bathroom incident, making good on your vow, but the safety of your mother was more important. 

He nodded. “Of course, yeah. What do you need?” 

“Come with me,” you said. He followed you out the castle to the black lake. You sat down on the cold grass, and he followed suit. You handed him the letter. After reading it, he returned it to you.

“Well, he’s not a particularly gifted writer,” George said.

You shoved him. “This is serious. My mum could be in danger. What do I do? I went to Hermione, but she—”

“She said to go to Professor Dumbledore. Yeah, I wouldn’t do that. No need to bother the man with something so small,” George said.

“So small? Are you kidding me? It’s big to me. My mum is the only person who has always stood by me,” you said, letting venom seep into your voice.

Guilt crossed his features. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

You took a deep breath. “No, I’m taking my frustration out on you. I’m sorry, too. I just don’t know what to do.”

“When did you send this?” He asked.

“Last night, sometime after dinner. Why?”

“And when did you get this letter?” He continued.

“I just got it about fifteen minutes ago, but I don’t know how long she had had it,” you answered. “Please tell me what you’re thinking.”

George thought for a moment. “Where does your mum live?”

“In Devon, why?”

Triumph flashed across his face. “That’s right near where we live. There’s no way your owl could have made the flight there and back so quickly.”

You hadn’t even thought of that. “But what does that mean?”

“It means your owl was intercepted,” he explained.

That only added to your confusion. “So, the letter isn’t from my uncle?”

He shook his head. “No, I think it is. But he’s pretending like he knows less than he does. Believe me, I’ve done it enough to know when others are doing it.”

“You think he knows about witches and wizards?” You pulled some of the grass out of the dirt.

“Maybe, there’s no way to know for sure. How did your mum react when you got your Hogwarts letter? Did she seem like she knew anything about it?”

You tried to rack your brain. “I don’t know, that was years ago.”

“I’ll have my mum stop by your house and check on your mum. Don’t worry about it, I’m sure she’s fine,” he said.

A stray piece of hair had fallen in front of your eye. George leaned towards you and tucked it behind your ear.

“Thanks,” you said quietly. “But I’ll be worrying anyway.”

He chuckled. “I’ll send an owl to the Burrow tonight, asking her to go as soon as possible.”

You nodded. “Sorry if I dragged you away from anything.”

He looked at you like you were dim. “You didn’t drag me away from anything. And even if you had, I wouldn’t mind. I like spending time with you.”

“Me too,” you said, no doubt blushing. But you couldn’t risk anything, especially now that he was helping you with your mum. “I’ve got to go.” He stood up as you did.

He looked surprised. “Oh, okay. Let me walk you back.”

“You Gryffindors sure like walking people back to their dorm rooms.”

George gave a small bow. “We are always at the service of pretty girls.”

Your blush deepened. “I’m fine tonight. Let me know when your mum answers.”

“Of course.”

“Thanks again,” you said and walked away, back towards the castle. You glanced back and saw George staring out on the black lake. You wondered what he was thinking, and if it was at all similar to what you were thinking. Because as much as you were worried about your mum, George’s compliment still clouded your mind. Did he think about your words as often as you thought about his?


	5. 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George gives you some news about your mother. Afterwards, you lay with him under the stars, sharing secrets.

You decided to sit by yourself for breakfast. Even though you had already dragged George into your problem (and tried to drag Hermione first), you wanted to try to keep them away from anything your crazy uncle could do. When you first entered the Great Hall, they waved at you, which you returned, but then their faces took on a confused look as you sat at the end of the Slytherin table. You saw Hermione lean in and seemingly whisper something. Clearly, she was telling them about the letter, which was exactly the opposite of what you wanted and the reason you had not sat with them.

But in case that wasn’t what Hermione said, you stayed in your seat. You scribbled away in one of your notebooks with your muggle pencil that you had brought with you for some reason. You really only used it to doodle, since it was far more efficient than having to continuously dip a quill in ink every few words. Between the previous two pages to where you were drawing, you had slipped the letter. It was folded into fourths, so that it didn’t peak out the sides of your journal. You resisted the temptation to pull it out and read it for the umpteenth time.

You glanced over at the Gryffindor table and saw your friends—it still felt weird to be able to say that—getting up and readying to go to their classes. You ducked your head down and focused your attention on the grey spirals covering the page. You heard Hermione give a short, loud laugh, and then they were gone.

You considered skipping classes for the day, but decided not to, since you couldn’t figure out what else you would be doing. You got up from the table, not having eaten a single bite, and left the Great Hall. The cold seemed to seep through your robe and sweater more than usual. You wrapped your arms tight around yourself and glanced to the open windows with a distasteful look. You hurried to your Transfiguration class.

You were the first one there and took your seat in the back of the class by the large windows. Professor McGonagall had written today’s lesson on the board, as usual, but you didn’t bother reading it. Due to your advanced skill at transfiguration you were in a sixth-year class as a fifth year. McGonagall had been against it, but even she couldn’t win a fight against Dumbledore. When the student body had found out you were in a sixth-year class, the looks you received were scalding. They couldn’t believe that their hate for you wasn’t beating you down completely. You tried to hide that it affected you, but you wouldn’t let them affect your academic career.

Your section of the class was a split between Slytherins and Hufflepuffs. Cedric Diggory sat in the back next to you, but you were certain he had no idea who you were. He was one of the last few people to walk in.

He sat down at his desk and for probably the first time all year, he turned to look at you. A look of surprise crossed his face. “Since when do you sit here?” He asked.

You tried not to roll your eyes. But your heart was hammering from the attention of someone so well-known at Hogwarts. “Since the first day of classes.”

You thought for a second that he looked ashamed, but you couldn’t be sure. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said. “Well, nice to meet you.” He stuck out his hand and you shook it.

“Nice to meet you, too,” you responded, and turned back to face the front of the classroom.

“So,” Cedric said, despite your clear termination of the conversation. “Did you know there’s a fifth year in this class?” You turned back to look at him. “Supposed to be a Slytherin. I can’t figure out who it is since I barely know any Slytherins.” He glanced at your green tie. “Not that I dislike them,” he quickly added.

You debated whether to tell him or not. He seemed to only be slightly interested, and it didn’t seem like he would say anything mean about it. You tried to smile, but it probably looked more like a grimace. “It’s, uh, me,” you said, “I’m the fifth year.”

His eyes widened. “Oh wow. I’m a horrible desk neighbor.”

You laughed. “No, it’s alright. Nobody really pays attention to me,” unless they’re wishing you were spitting up slugs. But you didn’t add the last part.

He cocked his head. “Huh. Can’t see why. Beautiful and intelligent. There must be someone who has their eye on you.”

You blushed on the compliment. “Thanks, but I think you’re one of the only people who thinks that of me. I don’t really have friends. Or, well, I didn’t up until a few days ago.”

He nodded. “You should hang out with Cho and me some time,” he said.

You remembered what Harry had said about Cho. “Are you and Cho…” you trailed off.

His cheeks turned rosy as he said, “Yeah, we’re together.”

“That’s nice. And I appreciate the offer, but I think it’s better if I kept to myself for a while. Hard to explain.”

He nodded. “Well, the offer stands.”

McGonagall cleared her throat. “Alright, class…”

\--

You passed George in the hallway on your way to your last class of the day. You both stopped.  
“Hear anything yet?” You asked.

George shook his head. “I sent it last night, so it probably arrived a couple hours ago. I don’t know if she’ll go and then write back. Or write back before and after.”

“Okay. Please let me know as soon as you hear anything,” you requested.

“Of course.” Then for the first time, he did something you had no trouble as classifying as awkward on his behalf. He lifted his arm and placed his hand on your shoulder. He held it there for a second, looked away, and abruptly returned his arm to his side. Even though it was incredibly awkward, you had definitely turned a few shades redder. “Will you be in the library later today?”

You thought for a moment. “Probably, why?”

“Just need to know where to find you if I hear anything from my mum,” he explained.

You both went to walk in different directions when you spoke again, “George, wait.” He turned back around with a questioning gaze. “You haven’t said anything to the others about my uncle, have you?”

He hesitated. “I didn’t, but Hermione said something at breakfast earlier.”

Your heart started racing. “What did she say?”

“Don’t worry. She just said you’d gotten a letter from you’re an uncle you really don’t like. She didn’t mention anything about what it said.”

You sighed in relief. “Okay. Please don’t say anything either. I don’t want to put anyone else at risk of his craziness. I regret dragging you into.”

This time when he put his hand on your shoulder, it wasn’t awkward. In fact, it was incredibly comforting. “You didn’t drag me into this. I willingly walked into it.” You smiled at his wording. “Really, don’t worry about it. I more than happy to try and help you with this.”

You nodded. “Thanks.” A moment of silence. “I better get to my next class.”

\--

You were sitting in the back corner of the library late that night, reading a random book from the shelf next to you. It was surprisingly interesting. You were halfway through the book, when a hand waved over the page. You jumped slightly and looked up. George was standing there.

You immediately shot out of your chair. “Did you hear anything?”

A smile spread across his face. “I better have considering I’m up this late.” You urged him to tell you. “Yeah, yeah, sorry. My mum got the letter. She went to your house, and your mum is absolutely fine.”

You felt a weight lift off your shoulders, and without thinking, wrapped your arms around him, hugging him tightly. He stood stiff for a second, before wrapping his arms around you. You pulled back. “Wait, how did you hear back so fast?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not sure. Dumbledore came to me with the news. My mum or dad must have reached him somehow. I did say it was very urgent in the letter, and they might not have wanted to wait for Errol to make his way back.”

“What exactly did Dumbledore tell you?”

He laughed slightly. “You know him, very cryptic. But he just told me that he had heard that your mum was fine and that I ought to tell you.”

“Well, that’s a relief, but that just leaves me with more questions,” you said, as you sat down.

“What do you mean?” George asked, taking a seat as well.

“My uncle said,” you pulled out the letter and found the line and read it out loud, “Unfortunately for you, I’m fine. Your mother, however, well, that’s to be seen.” You put the letter back in the journal. “What could he have meant by that if he’s not even with her?”

George shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe just lying to get you to reply again.”

You dropped your head into your hands. “That doesn’t make any sense either though. How did he even know how to intercept an owl? Somebody must have told him something.”

“Your mum, maybe told—”

“Definitely, not,” you interrupted. “She wouldn’t make a mistake like that. He’s been delusional since a kid. He always thought he was special somehow but would never tell my mum why. Their parents sent him to some boys’ school out of the country to help his issues. But it just ended up making it worse.”

“Okay, not your mum. Who else then? Who else knows you’re a witch?” George asked.

You thought for a moment. “Nobody. Just my mum.”

George sighed softly. “Then, it’s got to be your mum, Y/N.”

“No way,” you argued. “She’d never do that. She even told me it was better not to tell him. She said he’d end up deluding himself into thinking he was a wizard himself.” There was an awkward silence. George clearly still believed your mother had said something to you uncle. “Fine, don’t believe me. Even if she did say something, the whole situation still makes no sense. He’s got no reason to be looking for me.”

“As far as you know,” George added.

“As far as I know,” you repeated. “My brain hurts.”

George chuckled. “Mine, too. Let’s go do something fun,” he suggested.

“We’ve got to be back in our dorms in thirty minutes,” you said after glancing at the clock on the wall.

“So, we’ll be a little late. I’m sure they won’t notice,” he argued.

“I disagree. I’m positive Snape will notice.” George opened his mouth to say something but stopped right away. “What?” You asked, beyond curious.

“No, never mind,” he said.

“Come on, tell me.”

He looked at you apologetically, which caught you off guard. “I was just going to say that you yourself said nobody pays attention to you. Why would Snape?”

You couldn’t help the loud laugh that escaped your mouth. George smiled nervously. “I guess, you’re right. Let’s do something fun.” You paused for a moment. “As long as it doesn’t include flying.”

“Are you kidding? I really don’t want to play nurse again anytime soon,” he said. At the mention of that, you remembered what you thought was almost a kiss and turned a deep shade of red. George seemed to remember too as he rubbed the back of his neck and avoided eye contact.

You broke the tension. “What did you want to do then?”

“I didn’t really have anything in mind,” he said.

“Are you kidding me? You went through this trouble of convincing me with no actual idea of what you were convincing me to do?”

He smirked. “You still agreed though, didn’t you?” He stood up and held out his hand. “Follow me.”

You wiped your hand on your skirt under the table before standing up and taking his hand. He led you through the castle, your hand still in his. He smiled triumphantly when he saw the doors to the Great Hall were still open, and he led you inside.

“You’re good at Transfiguration, right?” He asked. You nodded. “Can you turn something in here into a blanket?”

You glanced around and couldn’t find anything that would make it easy. Then your eyes landed on George. “Can I use your jumper?” He looked taken aback before slipping it over his head and handing it to you. The jumper in your left hand, you used your right hand to touch the tip of your wand to it as you muttered, “Stragulum.” The jumper started to grow in size and spill onto the floor. Once it was finished, you handed the blanket to George.

He gently pushed you to the side and spread the blanket across the floor between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables. He sat down on one side of the blanket and looked up at you. You glanced around, looking for any clue as to what you were doing. One thing crossed your mind, but that was just your teenage hormones acting up. You sat down next him and looked forward at the staff table.

He leaned back and placed his head on the blanket. You looked down at him but didn’t move. He let out a breathy laugh before pulling you down by your shoulder. Your head was turned to him, centimeters apart. He glanced down at your lips but then looked straight up. You followed his gaze and felt incredibly stupid. You had completely forgotten about the bewitched ceiling. The stars seemed to be sparkling on the nearly black background of the sky. There were a few light gray clouds floating around, which caught your attention. You couldn’t move your eyes from the clouds.

“Don’t you love the stars?” George asked.

You meant to agree with him, but what you said was, “I like the clouds.”

He hummed next to you. “Those are nice, too.”

You both laid there in silence for a few minutes before he turned towards you and propped himself up on one elbow. “Now, I remember there was some talk of secrets the day of the first task.”

You turned to face him. “That talk was all on your part. I never said anything about having secrets.”

“Everyone has secrets,” he said wistfully.

“Alright, then. What’s one of your secrets?” You asked, drawing circles on the blanket between you two.

He shook his head. “This isn’t about me.”

You dropped your jaw. “How is that fair?”

“Fine,” he mumbled. He let out a puff of air. You waited patiently as he rummaged through his brain for a secret. His eyes glinted and he smiled. “Here’s one,” he said. “I one tried to feed Scabbers to Errol.”

“Who is Scabbers?” You asked.

“Well, that’s actually a funny story. At the time he was Percy’s rat. Then Ron got him. Then he kind of disappeared. Wonder what happened to him. Maybe Errol finally ate him.” You pushed him on the shoulder, and he fell onto his back. He jokingly glared at you before propping himself up again. “Your turn.”

You tried to think of something, piecing through your childhood memories. “Everything is pretty much a secret for me. The only person I ever tell anything is my mum.”

“Well, what’s something you haven’t even told your mum?” He asked, his eyes staring into yours. You looked away, the intensity bothering you.

“There was this one time,” you started. “No, never mind.”

His body stiffened with attention. “No, I want to know that secret. Tell me.”

“Fine,” you mumbled. “There was this one time that the neighbor’s cat had come over into our yard. It was just lying in the shade against the fence. I ran inside and grabbed. No, I can’t tell you this,” you said.

George sighed exasperatedly. “You can’t start and not finish. I need to know what happened to this cat.” He widened his eyes as he spoke these next few words, “I need to know.”

You ran a hand through your hair. “Okay.” You took a deep breath for courage. “I went inside and grabbed my mum’s electric razor.” 

George’s face lit up with delight. “You didn’t!” He yelled.

You clamped a hand over his mouth and shushed him. Your eyes fell onto your hand on his mouth and your stomach tightened. You dropped your hand. How was it that after years of being alone, you seemed to fall into these relationships way easier than expected? Two weeks ago, you never would have even dreamt of putting your hand over a boy’s mouth. And now, you had done it without even thinking. “I just shaved the tail,” you said.

He laughed. “Why? Did it run away?”

You gave a weak smile. “Yes.”

He fell onto his back and placed his hand on his forehead. “You sure are something.”

You laid back down too. “At least, I didn’t try to commit murder.”

“Fair enough. But in my defense, Scabbers wouldn’t stop chewing on my toy firetruck,” he argued.

It was your time to laugh. “I don’t think he deserved the death penalty for that.”

“It made sense at the time.” You turned your head to the side, looking at the side of his face. Your eyes traced his profile. You noticed a small bump on his nose, whereafter his nose sloped down more. “What are you looking at?” He asked. You could see the side of his smile.

“Nothing,” you answered a bit too quickly.

“So, I’m nothing now. How flattering,” he joked. He turned to face you as well.

His brown eyes seemed to take in every little part of your face. “What are you looking at?” You asked, imitating his tone.

His eyes found yours as he smiled. “Something.” 

You barely had time to blush, when a croaky meow sounded through the Great Hall. You both looked at each other, panic-stricken. If Mrs. Norris was here, then Filch wasn’t far away. You jumped up and he threw the blanket over his shoulder. He wrapped his hand around your wrist and started running, just as Mrs. Norris let out another meow.

“Where are we even going?” You asked between breaths.

“Just trust me,” he replied, continuing to pull you along.

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

Soon, he opened the door to an empty classroom and closed the door behind you two.

“Are you kidding me? They’ll find us in no time!” You complained.

“No, they won’t,” he said, looking through the little window in the door. 

You crossed your arms over your chest. “And why not?”

He turned to look at you. “Filch never looks in the classrooms. He must be allergic to learning or something.”

You suppressed a smile. “And when exactly can we leave?”

A wicked grin spread across his face. “Who knows? Better strap in for a long night.” He pulled the blanket off his shoulder and wrapped it around your back pulling you close to him.

You remembered your vow. Clearly, you couldn’t stay away from him, but the least you could do was keep anything more than friendship from happening. You pushed him back softly. “I really do need to get back.”

George’s face fell, but he nodded. “Just give it a couple minutes.” 

You took the blanket out of his hands, pointed your wand at it and muttered the spell to turn it back into George’s jumper. He took it out of your hands and peeked out the little window again. 

He nodded. With one more peak out the window, he said, “I think we’re safe.”

Stepping out of the classroom, you peered down both ends of the hallway. You pointed to the right. “I’m this way,” you said. 

He pointed to the left. “And I’m this way.”

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” you said. He nodded. Then, surprising even yourself, you stepped closer to him, stood on your tiptoes, and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Thanks for helping me with my uncle.”

He blushed and stammered.

“Good night,” you said, before turning and leaving.

After turning down a few hallways, you started freaking out. “What in the world was I thinking?” You muttered to yourself. “Why did I? Ugh!” 

You walked through the empty Slytherin common room and went straight to your dorm room. Locking the door behind you, you fell onto your bed. You rubbed your hands into your eyes until you saw little colorful spots.

You shouldn’t have kissed him. What was the point of that? You had made a vow. Well, you had already broken that vow. But then you amended it to just keep anything non-platonic from happening. And now you were breaking even the amended one. What in Merlin’s name was wrong with you?

George was helping you with your uncle and you were risking his help for a stupid kiss. What if all his behavior was a just a joke, and you had just made him think you felt something for him? Did you feel something for him? What a stupid question. But you’d never felt anything for anyone before. Your earlier thought returned to you: What if this was just the feelings of a best friend. They weren’t so different from the way you felt towards Fred or Harry. But then again, the feelings were different in some way you couldn’t figure out. Your head was spinning, and without even taking off your shoes, you fell asleep.


	6. 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As you study with Cedric and Cho, you notice a few weird things about Cedric. Later, on your way back from spending time with Ron, Mrs. Norris ruins your chance of overhearing a conversation.

You woke up early the next morning, and your first thought, much to your embarrassment, was George. His shoulder-length red hair and curved top lop had firmly lodged itself in your mind, so much so, that you could hardly focus on anything. You wound up brushing your teeth twice and using shampoo as body wash. After your mess of getting ready, you left the dungeons.

Halfway to the Great Hall, you saw George leaning against the wall ahead of you. He was inspecting his hand, digging dirt out from under his nails. You had made it all the up to him, and he still hadn’t noticed you. You cleared your throat.

“Merlin,” he breathed as he flinched an unreasonable amount. When his eyes finally met yours, a butterfly-inducing smile painted itself across his face. “Hey.”

“What are you doing here?” You asked, crossing your arms.

“It’s Hermione’s fault really. She wanted you to sit with us at breakfast, and she thought I was the person you were most likely to listen to,” he explained.

You hated that Hermione was right, but you weren’t going to let him get off that easily. “So, it’s all Hermione?” He nodded. “But you couldn’t care less?” You continued. His smile morphed into a smirk.

“Oh, darling. Fishing for something?” George said, suppressing a chuckle.

You shrugged, trying to hide your embarrassment. “Yeah, and I have a feeling that I’ve already got something on the line.”

He laughed as he shook his head slightly. “Well, what do you got to reel it in? Can’t expect the fish to do all the work.”

You started walking towards the Great Hall. “On second thought, I’m not really in the mood for fish right now.”

George was stunned for a second, before he took a few large steps to catch up to you. His hand rested gently on your shoulder. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

You and George were walking in between the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor table, when ahead of you, Cedric got up from his seat.

“Y/N!” He said, waving exaggeratedly.

George looked between you two confused. “Hi, Cedric,” you said.

“Cho and I are going to study in the library after class. You should join us,” he said. He gave an award-winning smile before sitting back down. He didn’t even wait for you to answer.

You couldn’t understand his sudden desire to be your friend. But then you also didn’t understand why the people you were about to have breakfast with wanted to be your friend either. 

George looked at you with a questioning gaze. “Since when do you talk to Diggory?” He asked.

“I don’t. Just yesterday in class.” You glanced over at Cedric again. You had sat next to him for a little more than two months now and nothing, now suddenly, he was inviting you to the library. Just out of curiosity, you decided to go.

George nodded before taking a seat. 

Hermione immediately pounced on you. “So, Cedric, huh?” She asked. Just from the nature of the question, you blushed, but in truth, there was genuinely nothing there.

“What about him? We’re in the same Transfiguration class. That’s all,” you explained.

“Cho’s studying with him?” Harry asked.

You remembered his feelings for him. “Um, yeah, they’re together,” you said, trying to be as gentle as possible.

He tried to hide his disappointment. “Okay then.”

There was an awkward moment as everyone felt bad for Harry, but then Fred brought up a plan for a new prank, and everyone chimed in with additions and adjustments.

Halfway through breakfast, George thigh was pressed up against your own. You tensed up immediately and went to move. But then, realizing a sly smile on his face, kept your leg in the same spot. You could barely focus on what anyone was saying because your mind was so concentrated on the point of contact between you and him under the table. You were sure the others would notice and make some remark or other. Hermione had already accosted you that one morning. You weren’t sure you’d be able to hide your infatuation as easily. Thought, you knew she hadn’t even believed you then.

After breakfast, you made your way to the last classes of the week. This week had been long, and you could not wait for this afternoon, when the weekend began. Then you remembered Cedric’s invite. You hadn’t processed that they were planning on studying on a Friday afternoon. How bizarre. Still, you wanted to see what it would be like to hang out with Cedric and Cho. Plus, you wanted to see if you could find any inside scoop about their relationship that could help Harry.

When the time came to meet Cedric and Cho, you were having second thoughts. You had already made friends who seemed to like you. Why would you risk spending time with more people who could reject you? You were putting yourself right back in the vulnerable place you hated. But you had made a decision at breakfast, and you were going to stick to it.

Cho was sitting alone at one of the tables, already having started her work. With a deep breath, you made your way over. You cleared your throat. “Cho?” You asked.

She looked up at you, a smile on her lips. “You must be Y/N. Cedric said you’d be joining us today,” she said, in a distinct Scottish accent.

You nodded. “Yeah. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” she said. “Have a seat.”

You sat down across from her and started pulling out your books. You had just placed your last textbook on the table when you saw Cho debating something in her mind. You wanted to ask but figured it wasn’t your place.

Just then she spoke up. “Y/N. Have known Cedric long?”

The question surprised you. “No, we spoke the first time yesterday in class.” She seemed disappointed in your answer. “Why?” You couldn’t resist asking.

“Nothing important. I suppose it’s just the pressure of the Tri Wizard Tournament,” she said, waving her hand.

You tried to figure out what she meant, but you decided she had given you too little information. Plus, it was very unlikely that something between Cho and Cedric would have any large effect on you. 

As Cho returned to her work, Cedric arrived and sat down next to her. She gave him a curt greeting and leaned away from a barely noticeable amount. Good news for Harry, you thought.

“Glad to see you’re here,” Cedric said.

“Figured I wouldn’t be doing anything else. Might as well get some of my work done,” you said. Thought secretly you wished that you could be alone in your dorm room rereading one of your favorite muffle books.

Cedric nodded. “Cho and I like to get our weekend work done early, so we can really enjoy the time off. There’s a Hogsmeade trip on Sunday.”

You nodded. You had never gone to Hogsmeade, since you had no one to go with and didn’t feel like being laughed at for that. At least laughed at any more than usual.

He glanced over at Cho. “Want to join us?” Cedric asked.

Your heartrate spiked. Cho was looking up from underneath her eyelashes. If you didn’t know better, you’d say she was silently begging you to say yes. So, you nodded. “Uh sure.”

“Great,” he said. Without another word, he dove into his schoolwork. From what you had overheard, Cedric was not only socially loved, but he was also very gifted academically. You couldn’t help glancing over at his parchment to verify this fact. Reading the parchment upside down was a challenge, but you always questioned people’s academic ability. It wasn’t that you thought you were better than everybody else, but you had seen so much cheating. You had been surprised at first; you were at a magical school, after all, why didn’t they have preventive measures all year, and not just during year end exams? You had a hard time believing that Cedric would be a cheater, just from his friendly demeanor, but reading his parchment, you weren’t so sure anymore.

It’s not that he was wrong, but his answers were so simple, as if he had a different version of the textbook. McGonagall had assigned one piece of parchment on a spell in the textbook the class had yet to go over. You had already done the reading and started your parchment. Cedric was writing small details that you had no memory of being in the reading. He also failed to mention any of the newer variations of the spell. You put it out of your head. Perhaps he truly just had an older version of the textbook.

The study session was significantly quieter than the ones with Hermione, Ron, and Harry. As surprising as that may be, given that Hermione was a bit of a stickler for work ethic, the group wanted to talk to each other. Cedric and Cho, however, well, it just seemed like they preferred silence.

After finishing your parchment for Transfiguration and making corrections to you Muggle History exam, you said your goodbyes and left. Utterly confused with the dynamic between Cho and Cedric, and just with Cedric himself, you were grateful to be out of there. Cedric had seemed so fond of her when speaking to you yesterday, but when he was in person with her, he made no move to express those feelings. There were no small glances to check up on her or anything. You thought back to yesterday and tried to remember the details of the conversation. Maybe he hadn’t sounded so fond of her? You just remembered a light blush on his cheeks. No smile or anything. That was necessarily unusual, but…you stopped yourself. It wasn’t your place to make any judgements of their relationship or their feelings for one another.

Then you remembered, you were supposed to go to Hogsmeade with them on Sunday. You hadn’t made any arrangements. Perhaps it was better not to go with them anyway.

You put your things away when you had gotten back to your dorm room and finally changed out of your robes. You grabbed one of your favorite novels and plopped down onto your bed. A few pages in, you noticed you had no idea what you had just read. But since you had the entire story memorised, you kept reading. Another few pages later, you gave up. There was no point in reading it, if you were just relying on what you remembered. You slumped down into a laying position and closed your eyes.

Once again, a face appeared behind your eyelids, but you hated this one. Two large green eyes filled with malice. Two thin, red lips, a scar carved through both of them on the right side. A receding hairline revealing blemishes on his scalp. Dry, shoulder length, faded brown hair tucked behind ears. You opened your eyes again and went to your closet. You pulled out your trunk and searched in the pouches for an item you never unpacked but that your mother insisted you bring every year. It was a picture.

You were there, unaware of the magic coursing through you. You mother was standing behind you, her hands rested on your shoulders as she looked down at you with a small smile. Your uncle was off to the side of the picture, without the receding hairline yet, talking to some random local. Your cousin, your uncle’s daughter, had her back to the camera, looking through the bars of the railing at the bright blue water beyond. You had actually quite liked your cousin, since she was nothing like her father. But one New Year’s Eve, on the way home from you and your mom’s house, they’d been hit by a drunk driver. She was dead by the time the ambulance had arrived and your uncle had gotten off scot free. You couldn’t stand that when you first heard the news, you had wished your uncle died instead of your cousin. But what made you feel worse, that even years later, supposedly more mature, you still felt the same way.

Your uncle looked so harmless in this picture. That’s why you hated it. You had no idea why your mother forced you to bring it. She hated her brother just as much as you hated him, but even so, she stressed the importance of family. You had suggested folding the picture so that Oliver wouldn’t be tucked away, but she had given you a disapproving look.

You slipped on a jacket, put the picture in the pocket, and left your dorm room. You were just walking on the castle, unsure of what exactly your plan was. Then you spotted Ron walking out of the Great Hall.

“Ron!” You called.

He turned to look at you. “Hi! Haven’t seen you since breakfast. How was studying with Cedric and Cho?”

You hesitated. “Um, it was weird,” you said.

He looked surprised by this. “How so?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. It just was. It was almost like Cedric barely knew Cho and couldn’t care less about her, while Cho hated being around him. She mentioned something about the pressure of the Tri Wizard Tournament, but she didn’t really say much after that.”

A wrinkle appeared between his eyebrows as he thought. “That is weird.” Then a smile spread across his face. “Good news for Harry though, huh?”

You laughed. “That’s exactly what I thought.”

He nodded his head to his right, offering you to join him, and you walked with him.

“How you been?” Ron asked. 

“I’ve been good,” you said. Somehow, it was both the truth and a lie. “You?”

He huffed. “Potions is really killing me. I mean, why are we writing about potions? Shouldn’t we just be making them?”

“I’m sure you know why,” you said. “You just don’t like potions because of Snape.”

He laughed. “I think he just makes me like it even less. It’s just so useless. You don’t have time to brew a potion while fighting someone.”

It was your turn to laugh. “Do you plan on fighting many people?”

“If you expect it, you won’t be caught off guard,” he explained.

He gave the password to the Fat Lady, not even bothering to hide it from you and walked inside. 

“Bye, then,” he said to his back.

He turned around surprised. “Common room’s dead on Friday evenings. You can come in.”

You glanced around, there was nobody nearby, except for the abundance of paintings. Steeling your mind, you walked into the Gryffindor common room.

The first thing you noticed was the warm tones of red and brown. There was no green tint to the light from the lake that the Slytherin common room suffered from. There was a fire crackling softly in the brick fireplace. A couch and a few loungers were placed in front of it, on top of an old-fashioned rug. There were bookshelves that were decorated with random knick-knacks. There was a chess set on one of the tables, the shattered pieces off to the side. You decided you loved this far more than the Slytherin common room.

You turned to Ron who had taken a seat in front of the fire. Hesitantly, you sat down on one of the big chairs. “You sure it’s okay for me to be here?”

Ron shrugged. “I’m sure it’s fine. It’s not like you’re wearing your Slytherin tie.”

You nodded, unsure. A comfortable silence passed between you two. It was similar to when you were alone when you were just existing. But now, you and Ron were existing together in the same space. He was staring into the fire, and you were inspecting the rug on the floor.

“Can I ask you a question?” You said, breaking the silence.

His eyes didn’t leave the fireplace. “Sure.”

“Would you rather I leave you guys alone?” Before he could say anything, you prattled on. “I really don’t mind. I’d rather know than just continue to bother you guys, ya know? I’ve been alone all this time, it’s really not a big deal to me.”

He just stared at you. “Woah,” he said. “You’ve got to relax.”

“What?”

“Stop questioning everything. Some things are just as they seem,” he explained, eyes back on the fire.

“So, what does that mean?” You asked. You felt bad for continuing to badger him about this, but the last thing you wanted was to spend time with people who’d rather be without you.

“So,” he said, “we want to spend time with you. You’re cool.” He paused for a moment. “If oyu don’t believe me, ask George. He won’t shut up about you. Quite annoying really.”

You blamed the heat in your cheeks on the fire.

Ron ran up to his dorm room to grab a jumper, and you went over to peruse the bookshelf. All the books were magic related, except for one relatively short one, tucked away in the corner. It was one of your favorites by Mary Shelley. You brought the book over to the chair and started reading. A few minutes later, Ron was back. He handed you a chocolate frog and sat back down on the couch.

“What’s that?” He asked, pointing at the book with the box containing the chocolate.

“Found it on the bookshelf over there,” you said. “It’s one of my favorites. It was written by a muggle.”

He raised his eyebrows and then returned his attention to the fire. He took slow bites of his chocolate. You were mesmerised by the picture he was creating. He noticed you staring, and the top his ears turned a light shade of pink. “What?” He asked.

You shook your head. “Nothing. Just trying to figure out what you’re doing.”

He gave you a small smile. “Just relaxing. Like I said, Friday nights, the common room is empty, so that’s when I sit here by myself. Being in such a big family, it’s nice to have some time to myself to relax.”

You nodded. “Makes sense.” But you felt the exact opposite. It was nice to relax with someone else there.

You had read a fair amount when your eyes started to burn slightly. You closed the book and got up to return it to its spot on the shelf. You put your hands in your pockets and felt the picture in your right hand. You had wanted to show it to someone, but nobody would understand what you were trying to show them. You wanted to see if they saw what you saw, or if you were looking at the image all wrong. When you looked at your uncle, you saw an imposter, someone pretending to be a part of the picture, but off to the very edge, avoiding the others.

“I think I should get going,” you said.

Ron nodded up at you. “Alright. Want me to walk you back?”

“That’s okay. Thanks, though,” you said. With the picture clutched tightly in your hand, hidden in your jacket pocket, you left the Gryffindor common room.

On your way back to the Slytherin common room, you heard voices whispering around the corner. You stopped and tried to listen.

“You better be doing what he wants you to,” one of the voices said, male, rough, and old sounding.

The other voice answered but you couldn’t quite hear it because Mrs. Norris meowed loudly behind you, though you could tell the voice was young and male. You couldn’t tell much more. You shooed her away and turned back to listen, but it was silent. You turned the corner and saw a flash of black coat turn the corner as something rhythmically hit the ground, getting quieter as the person walked away.

You turned to say some choice words to Mrs. Norris, but she was gone. For some reason, that made you even angrier. You pulled the picture out of you pocket. Ignoring your mother’s words, you folded the picture, hiding your uncle from sight. You wished it was that easy in real life. You wished there was a part of your life you could fold away, and he would disappear and leave you alone. But you knew that wasn’t possible. He was out there, looking for you, Merlin knows why. When you got back to your dorm room, you propped the folded picture up against some books on your nightstand and went to sleep.


	7. 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone visits you at the Slytherin common room.
> 
> You spend the afternoon talking with Cho.

Friday night, you had decided to take Saturday as a lonesome day to recharge and prepare for Hogsmeade and the next week. The perfect way to start that relaxing day was to sleep in. But of course, that didn’t happen. Saturday morning, you woke to raucous noise coming from the common room. Naturally, you immediately decided to remain behind your locked door, safe from whatever nonsense was happening amongst the other Slytherins. Then you heard someone shout, “Get the mudblood down here!” You had gotten used to being referred to with such a vile name, combined with just as much venom in the voice itself. But this time…it felt like one of the first few times.

Slowly, you got out of your bed and slid your feet into some slippers. You pulled a thick jumper over your head and left your dorm room, raking your fingers through your hair. When you walked down the staircase, there were dozens of angry eyes on you. What in the world had you done this time? You had been sleeping, for Merlin’s sake.

Draco was standing in the middle of the room, the green tint of the air making his pale skin look sickly. “You’ve got a visitor,” he spat.

A visitor? The only person who told you they knew where the common room was George—so it was safe to assume Fred knew as well—but they weren’t stupid enough to come here on a Saturday morning. Or were they?

You walked over to the door, which was closed, adding to the anticipation. You glanced at the angry eyes on you before opening the door and stepping out. You were met with fluffy brown hair and grey eyes.

“Cedric?” You said. “What in the world are you doing here? You’ve made everyone think I showed you where the common room is!”

Something dawned on his face. You thought it was surprise, but something was a little off. “Oh,” he mumbled. “Right.”

You crossed your arms. “How’d you know about it anyway? You, yourself, said you barely knew any Slytherins.”

He looked like he was caught in a lie, even though he hadn’t even really said anything yet. “I don’t really know. Thought everyone knew,” he said. It was obvious he was trying to cover up who told him, but you decided it wasn’t worth further exploration. So, some Slytherin told him where the secret common room was, big deal.

You sighed. “What do you want?”

He visibly relaxed. “I thought we could go for a walk,” he offered. His face was entirely too…desperately hopeful, if that was even a thing.

You looked at the closed door behind you, picturing all the Slytherins waiting to berate you. You turned back to Cedric. “Sure. But let’s stay inside the castle.” You pointed to your bare feet in your slippers. “I’m not wearing socks.”

He looked at confusedly. “Why not go grabs some right now?”

You couldn’t help but laugh a bit. That door must really be soundproof for him not to have heard them calling to you. “You wouldn’t understand,” you said, before starting to walk, him falling into step beside you.

“So, what made you decide to make the Slytherins hate me more?” You asked after a minute of silence. You glanced over at him and his expression was unreadable, so you returned your eyes to the stone flooring of the castle.

“Just thought we could get to know each other more,” he said. “Like the other day, you said you hadn’t had any friends up until recently.” You nodded even though he wasn’t looking at you. With the next words he spoke, his voice took on an excitement you didn’t quite like, “Who are those friends?”

Just from his tone, you really didn’t want to answer. It was almost like he was going to do something with the information. But what could he possibly do? “Some of the Weasley family, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter.” As you spoke the last time, you looked over at him, and saw a victorious smile briefly flash across his face before returning to its previous unreadable state. You stopped in your tracks, Cedric turning around to look at you, after taking a few more steps. “What exactly are you doing?” You asked him.

His face was the perfect picture of innocent confusion. Were you delirious? Had you imagined the grin? You were always looking for reasons for things to go wrong, for friendships to be tainted. “What are you talking about?” He asked.

“I have to go,” you said, walking away before he could respond. But he ran up next to you. 

“Y/N, what’s got your wand in a knot?” He asked.

A mirthless laugh escaped you. “I just need some space. I only just woke up and apparently, I’m seeing things.”

He seemed a little taken aback at this. “Seeing what things?” He asked. Again, you thought you heard something weird in his voice, but chalked up to just having woken up.

“Just,” you waved your hand in front of you, “nothing. Don’t worry about it. Now, please leave me be.” This time, when you walked away, he didn’t run up behind you.

\--

You had been sitting on a stone bench in one of the deserted hallways of the castle, waiting for lunchtime. Not so that you could go have lunch, but so that the Slytherin common room would be virtually empty and you could finally put on some socks. Much to your dismay Cedric found you again.

“Merlin’s beard,” you mumbled to yourself.

“Y/N!” He called, waving to you.

Despite having little social interaction all your life, you still considered yourself polite, so you waved back. “Hi, Cedric.”

He sat down on the bench next to you, and suddenly, what had seemed like ample space, seemed like far too little. “So,” he said. “Harry figure out the egg yet?”

You shrugged. “No idea. We don’t talk about the tournament.”

He seemed disappointed by this. “It’s really quite simple. You just—”

“Tell him yourself. I really don’t care.” So much for being polite.

He was silent for a moment. “I’m sure he’ll figure it out himself.” With that, he got up and left you alone again. Oddly, you felt relieved. What was wrong with you? He was one of the popular people at Hogwarts, yet you continued to search for things that were off with him. It was just a feeling you got around him, but you knew that was entirely unwarranted. That feeling wasn’t based in fact, but still, it had to mean something. At the same time, that feeling made you biased. Those things you were seeing could all have been in your mind. You could have gone absolutely mad and projected this bizarre personality on someone who just seemed to want to be your friend.

Not quite lunchtime yet, you decided to bite the bullet and go back to your dorm room. Your toes surely had frostbite. You passed Cho in the hallway, who stopped to talk to you.

“Listen, Y/N, if I said anything weird yesterday,” she said, “just forget about it. I’ve just been stressed with my homework.”

Just more confirmation you were mad. “You didn’t say anything weird,” you replied. That wasn’t quite true, but it seemed like the appropriate thing to say.

She smiled. “Okay, good.” She paused. “What are you doing?”

You looked down at your feet. “Getting some socks.”

She laughed. “Why do you sound so upset about it?”

“Let’s just say that the Slytherins don’t particularly like me.”

She nodded. “Yeah, I knew that. Seems like nobody really does.” Quickly she added, “I mean, I like you. I just meant, others.”

You smiled at her. “It’s alright. I’ve heard worse.”

She seemed saddened by that. “Why don’t you borrow a pair of my socks, and we’ll go do something?”

“What would we do?” You asked. Last time you agreed to do something without knowing what, you almost got in trouble with Filch. You didn’t need a repeat of that.

She shrugged. “Suppose just talk?”

Comforted by the simplicity of it, you agreed. She led you to the Ravenclaw tower and made you stand out of earshot when she gave the portrait the password. She ran inside to grab some socks for you. After about a minute, she returned with two different pairs of socks.

“I didn’t know what you’d want,” she explained. “I’ve got long ones and ankle ones.” After taking your preferred choice, you quickly slipped them on, and the both of you left the tower. “Where’d ya want to go?” Cho asked you.

You thought for a moment. Being from different houses, your only options were the library, an empty classroom, the Great Hall, or some (cold) place outside. Needing some change in where you were hanging out with people, you ruled out the library. “An empty classroom?” You suggested.

She chuckled slightly. “Odd choice, but I suppose that works.”

You made your way to the hallway most densely populated with classrooms. Choosing Professor Flitwick’s Charms classroom, you closed the door behind you two and took a seat at one of the desks. She sat down at one facing you but with a fair distance between you two. You kept your eyes on your hands as you interlaced and unlaced with your fingers. What in the world were you supposed to talk about with her? But then, you had figured what to talk about with the others. Why should this be any different?

You looked up at her and she was surveying the classroom. “So,” you started, “how’d you and Cedric…” you trailed off.

A smile crossed her face. “It’s actually kind of funny. He asked me to the Yule Ball even before he was even one of the champions. We’d just been friends before that, quite good friends. But ever since he asked, we’ve been more, I suppose.”

“The Yule Ball?” You asked. You’d never heard of it. Was it like muggle prom?

Her eyes widened. “You don’t know what the Yule Ball is?”

You shook your head. “I’m muggleborn, and unlike Hermione, I don’t read thick wizarding history books for fun.”

She nodded in understanding. “It comes with the Tri Wizard Tournament. It happens on Christmas Day, December 25th.”

You were slightly disappointed then. “Guess I’ll be home then.”

“No,” she interjected. “You’ve got to stay. You can dance with me, when Cedric is acting bizarre.”

You cocked your head to the side, ignoring the sweet offer. “That’s the second time you’ve said something like that. Is everything alright?”

Her eyes fell to the ground before returning to you. “I don’t really know. Ever since he was chosen as one of the champions, he’s just been so different. Though, it might be all in my head. Maybe I’m just looking for things since we’re no longer just friends.”

You smiled. “I completely understand that. Self-sabotagers.” You both laughed together. “Why don’t you talk to him?” You asked.

A pained look crossed her face. “I don’t want to be one of those girls.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being one of those girls if you have valid concerns. What exactly is he doing?”

She shook her head. “That’s exactly it. He’s not really doing anything. He’s just different. And I can’t just walk up to him and say ‘You’re acting different. Why?’ That would be so weird,” she explained.

“Acting different how though? There must be something you can pinpoint,” you pressed. You were probably pushing the answers out of her more for yourself than for her. Those little things about Cedric, despite having said you were going to put them out of your head, still put you just the tiniest bit on edge.

She looked up to the ceiling. You figured she was running through her recent memories, trying to find some definitive difference between the old Cedric and the one now. A few moments passed before she looked at you again, defeated. “Maybe it’s not that he’s different, but that my expectations are warped.”

“What do you mean?” You asked. This time for her and not for yourself. The look in her eyes put all self-interest on the backburner.

“I guess that just ever since he asked me to the Yule Ball, I was expecting him to…I don’t even know. But it just seems like he’s around me out of obligation, like I’m just some nuisance he has to deal with to do whatever he actually wants to do.” Her eyes were welling up slightly. “We’ve been such good friends for so long, and it just, I just don’t want this to change things.” She laughed wryly. “But it already has, apparently.”

You got up from your chair and took a seat on the chair next to her. You placed on hand gently on her shoulder. “I don’t think it has. In the library, you said something about the pressure of the tournament. That has to be what it is. He’s probably just worried about performing well in the tasks. You’re definitely not some nuisance.” 

She smiled at you, a few tears slipping down. Surprisingly, you didn’t feel that uncomfortable. You had never been around someone—other than your mum—when they were crying. You always thought that if it happened, you’d have no idea what to do. But it seems like you managed. Hopefully.

“Thanks,” Cho said. “I just get in my head.”

Removing your hand from her shoulder, you said, “Don’t we all,” accompanied with a small laugh.

She wiped her hands under her eyes and took a deep breath. “Enough about me. What about you? Any boys?” Completely against your will, a deep blush crawled across your cheeks. She gasped, the melancholy atmosphere completely vanishing. “There totally is!”

You shook your head vehemently. “There really isn’t.”

She laughed. “There is no other way you could have blushed like that. Just tell me.”

You debated telling her and figured it would be no harm. “I guess, there sort of is someone.” She was about to speak when you quickly added, “But it’s most definitely one-sided. So, no need to get excited.”

Her face fell slightly. “How do you know he doesn’t reciprocate?”

“I guess, I don’t know for sure. But I have no previous experience to measure everything against. Like you said, nobody really likes me.” She smiled sheepishly at that. “So, I have no way to tell what anything means.” There was a moment of silence. “On top of that,” you added, loudly, “I have no idea if what I’m calling it is actually what I’m feeling. I mean, I barely know him, and he’s somehow in my thoughts a lot. How does that make sense?”

She laughed. “It makes sense because you fancy him. Doesn’t matter that you barely know him, it’s not like you’re in love already. Now that would be a problem.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m definitely not in love with him. I don’t even really know anything about him. Except for an attempted crime he committed while younger.” You smiled as you remembered.

“See,” she said. “Then, there’s no issue. Just enjoy fancying him. It’s quite an exciting feeling. Especially, if it really is your first time having these feelings.”

Nodding, you countered, “I’m not sure ‘exciting’ is the word I would use for it. It’s actually quite annoying.”

“Let’s just say it’s both,” she said. Then she stuck out her hand, waiting to shake on your agreement. You shook her hand, the both of you laughing. “Glad that’s settled,” she said. Then a mischievous glint appeared in her eyes. “Can I know who it is?” Without even thinking about it, you shook your head. Her jaw dropped. “I just gave you that priceless insight and guidance, and you won’t tell me!”

“It’s not like you couldn’t guess who. I only have the few friends I made recently,” you said.

She placed her finger on her chin. She hummed slightly. “I did see you go into the Gryffindor common room with Ron,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows.

“What! I looked around before I went in and nobody was there. But no, it’s not him,” you said.

She gave you a doubtful look. “Are you lying? You’ve got to be honest with me.”

“I’m not lying,” you defended yourself, smiling.

“I haven’t really seen you with anyone else. If you're friends with Ron, you’re probably friends with Harry and Hermione. And you’ve been using male pronouns, so Harry?” She asked.

You were hoping to see something in Cho’s face that betrayed any feelings for Harry, but there was nothing. “No, not Harry,” you said. “Give up?”

She slumped back in her chair, huffing. “I suppose. I told you all about Cedric. Why can’t you tell me this?”

“Fine,” you sighed. She instantly shot straight back up. “It’s,” you paused. Another sigh. “It’s George.”

Her jaw dropped the second time that afternoon. “Really?”

You felt slightly offended. “Why?”

Hearing the offense in your tone, she quickly assured you. “No, no, I’m just surprised is all. You two would be cute together.” You tried to hide the blush on your cheeks. “So,” she said, changing the subject, “You coming to Hogsmeade with Cedric and me tomorrow?”

“I know I said yes, but I think I’ll stay in the castle. I’ve got some stuff to deal with,” you said. “Sorry.”

She smiled. “No worries. I’ve got to get going. We should definitely hang out together again, though.” She walked over to the door, opened it, and stepped out. “See ya!” She said, before walking out, leaving the door slightly ajar.

You leaned back in your chair, trying to process the entire day. You probably should have been focusing on what you learned about Cedric and how weird he was with you in the morning, but instead your mind stayed on your interaction with Cho. From afar, she just seemed like this calm girl with good looks. You hated judging a book by its cover, but she also just seemed kind of dry and personality-less. But that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. She was sweet, helpful, funny, and just a little bit as lost in life as you were.


End file.
